


Closing the Distance

by Maeve_of_Winter



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Class Differences, Gangs, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 19:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16024766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/pseuds/Maeve_of_Winter
Summary: Sweet Pea has been watching the sheriff's kid for a while, but only from a distance. He's too smart to get involved with someone from the Northside. But when that same Northsider turns up hurt, Sweet Pea finds himself unable to resist the impulse to help.





	Closing the Distance

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone reading! If you ever want to chat, here's my [Tumblr](http://maeve-of-winter.tumblr.com/). I love discussion and hearing people's thoughts, so feel free to submit ideas or just talk Riverdale.

He was late.

Sweet Pea leaned back against the thick trunk of an oak tree on the edge of the clearing just off of the lover’s lane in Fox Forest, fiddling idly with his switchblade. He was waiting on his last customers of the night—this spot was the typical meeting place between Northside kids looking to score weed and the Serpents looking to sell it to them.

Usually Fangs was here with him, and usually by this point in the evening, just as the sun was streaming through the leaves to spill over the trail like something from some kind of touristy wilderness adventure commercial, Sheriff Keller’s son would jog by. Hidden by the shadows as they were, the kid never noticed either of them, but they noticed him. Fangs especially noticed the tight jogging shorts that he wore and always made a point of appreciating them. 

“Damn, he has good form,” Fangs often remarked, turning his head and following every one of the kid’s movements eagerly until he disappeared around the bend in the trail. “I wouldn’t mind spending one of my nights with him instead of being stuck out in the middle of the woods.” He glanced at Sweet Pea apologetically. “No offense.”

Sweet Pea would just shrug, not having the heart to voice his typical disgust where Northsiders were concerned, both out of consideration for Fangs and because he privately agreed with him: the Keller kid was a looker. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. 

“Sheriff’s kid,” Sweet Pea would point out almost every time. “Trying something with him would be just asking for trouble.”

“Still,” Fangs would say, looking off into the distance, as if hoping the Keller kid would reappear to let him feast his eyes a little bit longer. “He’s a fine sight to see. Makes spending our nights out here worth it as long as we get to look at him.”

But tonight Sweet Pea was on his own, and he hadn’t seen the Keller kid run by, even though the sun was just about to go under and the kid typically passed by them before dusk set in. And hell if Sweet Pea would ever say it out loud, but he had been looking forward to seeing him. A Keller or not, he was a tall drink of water if there ever was one, with long legs and a tight ass and a face that didn’t just look cute but also friendly. Plus, sometimes the light of the setting sun played in his hair, making him look all glow-y, like some kind of fantasy creature. Sweet Pea liked looking at him when he was like that—hell, he liked looking at him, period. Who wouldn’t? The guy was real easy on the eyes.

So it was with some disappointment that he made his last deal of the day with a couple of River Vixens, took their money, handed them their dimebags, and then went on his way down the trail, back toward a patch of brush just off the beginning of the path where he and Fangs always hid their bikes. He couldn’t help but wonder what the Keller kid was doing instead—having a study party with all of his little preppy friends? Enjoying some quality bonding time with his dear old dad? Out on a date?

A spike of jealousy surged through Sweet Pea at the thought, bringing him to roll his eyes at himself. He’d thought Fangs was being dumb just for eyeing up Keller’s son, and here he was, going all puppy love about the guy. Well, he mused to himself, if the Keller kid had gone ahead and changed his running route, then Sweet Pea wouldn’t be seeing him pretty much at all anymore. So it wasn’t like having a soft spot for the kid would even really mean anything in the long run, he reassured himself. In fact, it was probably a good thing he never saw him again in his life. Northsiders only brought trouble to Southsiders. Nothing good could have come from being around the kid, even hell had frozen over and given Sweet Pea so much as a prayer at getting with him.

Sweet Pea was just trying and failing to convince himself of that when he rounded the corner and just happened by a fork in the trail. He moved to continue forward, but he automatically glanced down the other path, which sloped downward into a more dense part of the forest. 

And speak of the devil, the Keller kid was a short distance away, walking—well, limping—up the trail towards him. 

Freezing in surprise, Sweet Pea couldn’t help but stare at the kid, wondering what had happened to him. A fall? A fight? Some kind of hit-and-run? He was part surprised, part annoyed that legitimate concerned lanced through him at those ideas, at the thought of the kid being in danger.

Maybe the kid sensed he was staring, though, because he lifted his head from carefully navigating the trail and glanced up, making eye contact with Sweet Pea.

“Oh,” the kid said, and Sweet Pea heard the embarrassment in his voice and, even with the darkening sky, noticed the slight flush that spread across his cheeks. “Hello.” He looked away before Sweet Pea could respond, clearly self-conscious, and even reluctant as he was to feel anything toward him, Sweet Pea found his shyness . . . sweet.

It was a rare moment that Sweet Pea found himself at a loss for words, but right then he wasn’t sure what to say. He flicked his eyes to the leg the kid was favoring, but with the angle he was at and the growing shadows of the forest, he couldn’t see what the problem might be. 

And it might just have been the combination of his uncertainty and the ambiguity that had him blurting out, “Are you okay?” and then making his way down the bit of trail remaining to help him.

The Keller kid glanced up at him, surprise evident on his face at the question. “Oh, yeah. The path is just a bit treacherous down that way—” he gestured to the trail behind him “—and I slipped on some moss and twisted my ankle.” He gave an embarrassed shrug. “No big deal. I didn’t want to risk going down that way again, so I just thought I’d circle back on this route. It might be tougher in some spots, but it’s less risky overall.”

Sweet Pea’s pulse sped up as he absorbed the explanation. He’d always been convinced he’d never even have the chance to speak to this kid, but now here he was, right beside him, injured and in need of help.

It was a golden opportunity, and Sweet Pea decided, after a moment of struggling with the voice in his head warning him that the kid was not only a Northsider but the sheriff’s son, that he couldn’t let it pass him by.

“Well, uh, I have a motorcycle just up the trail,” Sweet Pea offered, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Why don’t I give you a ride?”

For a moment, the kid hesitated, and Sweet Pea’s heart pounded in his chest even as he told himself he was being ridiculous.

But then the kid gave him a shy smile, ducking his head slightly. “That would be fantastic,” he said gratefully, genuine appreciation in his gaze. “Thank you.” He extended his hand. “I’m Kevin. Kevin Keller.”

Mesmerized by Kevin’s green eyes, a few seconds passed before Sweet Pea registered that he should shake hands. Determined to play it cool, though, he didn’t startle or apologize, just accepted the handshake as if he’d been deliberately making Kevin wait.

“Sweet Pea,” he said briefly by way of introduction, and then, slipping out before he could bite his tongue, “Good to meet you.”

Then, trying to recover some his typical aloofness, reminding himself not to let down his guard around a Northsider, no matter how much time he’d spent fantasizing about him, he looped his arm around Kevin’s waist without warning, ignoring the latter’s gasp of surprise.

“You probably shouldn’t be walking on you own,” Sweet Pea told him, unable to quash the thrill that ran through him at finally putting his hands on the body he’d been checking out for weeks now. But more than that, his worry about Kevin’s injury hadn’t left him, even as he told himself it was foolish to worry for a Northsider. But he found that he wanted to be sure that Kevin got home all right.“I’ll just help you on the way to my bike.”

Kevin let out a nervous laugh, and God help him, Sweet Pea though it was cute. “Oh, all right. Lead the way then.”

Together they began climbing the remainder of the hill; Kevin needed to lean on Sweet Pea heavily at some parts, and Sweet Pea found himself disappointed when they got back to level ground and there wasn’t a need to press quite as close to him. Still, he relished in keeping his arm tight around Kevin’s waist, enjoying the warmth of his body, the feeling of his skin beneath his fingers. The way Sweet Pea was holding Kevin was almost as if they were on a date together, and the longer he held on, the less important it seemed that Kevin was a Northsider or the sheriff’s son.

It was a dangerous way of thinking, he knew, and he’d never figured himself for the type of Serpent who turned soft when they caught sight of a pretty face.

But as he helped Kevin climb on to the back of his motorcycle, keeping both his hands on his waist in order to steady him, and earned another soft but genuine smile from Kevin, he felt like his situation was understandable, even though it could never be condonable.  

“You all right?” Sweet Pea asked gruffly as Kevin got himself situated. “Need any help?”

“Fine,” Kevin confirmed.

Sweet Pea gave a firm nod, trying to cover the fluttering in his stomach, and then carefully swung his leg over the side of his bike, settling himself in front of Kevin and before the handlebars.

“Hang on tight,” he instructed, handing Kevin his helmet. 

Kevin nodded, slipping the helmet over his head and then obediently wrapped his arms around Sweet Pea’s abdomen, leaning in and grasping him securely. Sweet Pea couldn’t suppress a victorious smirk. He’d resigned himself to never having a chance with the sheriff’s kid—and now here Kevin was, clinging to him and pressing as close as possible.

He gunned the engine, the typical spike of adrenaline that always ran through him when out on his bike intermingling with his feeling of triumph, and was rewarded when Kevin clutched at him even tighter. 

The bike needed to be eased out of the woods, the road there being more grass than gravel, but the moment Sweet Pea’s tires met tarmac, they rocketed forward, speeding off into the night. And with the wind streaming through his hair and Kevin’s warm body leaning against his back, Sweet Pea was half-tempted to throw back his head and belt out a war whoop of victory for both the Southside and Northside to hear. This was living, really living, as far as he was concerned, even if it just lasted this one ride home and never happened again.

However, an instinctive wariness pulsed through Sweet Pea as they crossed the train tracks and entered the Northside, and it only increased as he followed Kevin’s directions to his house. Sweet Pea never could shake off a vague feeling of discomfort when he got stuck in Northside neighborhoods, knowing that he and his people did not and never would fit in with the manicured lawns, in-ground pools, and Audis parked in stone-paved driveways.

A firm tap on the should from Kevin told him when they reached his house, and Sweet Pea gave it an appraising glance as he pulled to a halt in front of it, letting out a scoff. It was a big fancy house with a big fancy yard and looked like it was pulled straight from some kind of country real estate magazine. He’d never given much thought to where the sheriff actually lived, but somehow it seemed all too cliché that he had some picture-perfect house that was the furthest thing imaginable from the ramshackle cottages and trailers that formed the Southside.

But he didn’t let his scorn distract him from more important matters; as he sensed Kevin moving behind him, preparing to stand, he quickly turned in his seat and stopped him.

“Hang on a minute,” Sweet Pea cautioned him, fluidly lifting himself off the bike and onto the ground. Standing in front of Kevin, he took his hand and helped him stand, making sure he wasn’t putting too much weight on his injured leg. 

“Oh, thanks,” Kevin said, a a faint blush coloring his cheeks, which only deepened as Sweet Pea again put an arm around his waist to help him up the walkway and to the door.

When they got to the porch, Sweet Pang was was struck by a pang of disappointment that he knew even then was foolish. He should be glad to drop off the kid and have it be someone else’s problem, to not bother with the sheriff’s family anymore, but he couldn’t deny that he was slightly saddened by the idea of having to leave and then go back to only watching Kevin from a distance. And he hadn’t been like most of the other Northsiders Sweet Pea knew—he hadn’t sneered at his offer of help or scoffed insults at him. He’d just been genuinely grateful and impressed at Sweet Pea’s aid, looking at him with true admiration, and Sweet Pea couldn’t help but long for just a bit more of that.

And so, on impulse, he found himself asking before he could reconsider, “Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

The instant the question left his mouth, he was torn between amazement at his own bravery and astoundment at his own stupidity, but mostly he was filled with anticipation, his heart pounding as he awaited Kevin’s reaction.

For a moment, Kevin simply stood there in his arms, looking stunned, as if speechless at the idea of anyone ever asking him on a date. Then his gaze shifted into something speculative, almost wary as he studied Sweet Pea’s face, and Sweet Pea realized, with an uncomfortable jolt, that he was trying to gauge his sincerity, figure out if his question was some kind of joke.

But he must have passed Kevin’s inspection, because he gave him a steady nod and a radiant smile that Sweet Pea would have sworn he could have warmed himself off of. 

“I’d love to,” Kevin told him, sincerity evident in his voice. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Sweet Pea nodded in acknowledgement, keeping his feelings under wraps, but inside he was cheering. “Cool. Could I pick you at seven on Friday, then?”

“I’ll be ready,” Kevin promised, and then he leaned in and gave Sweet Pea a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks again for all you help. I can’t wait to see you again.”

Nodding just a tad bit dazedly, Sweet Pea said his goodbye and headed back to his motorcycle, barely able to believe that he’d gathered up the nerve to ask Kevin out, even in spite of his misgivings.

But, he thought as he straddled his bike and then paused for a moment to run his fingers across the spot where Kevin’s lips had met his cheek, he had a strong hunch that Kevin was one Northsider who would prove worth the risk.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone reading! If you ever want to chat, here's my [Tumblr](http://maeve-of-winter.tumblr.com/). I love discussion and hearing people's thoughts, so feel free to submit ideas or just talk Riverdale.


End file.
